


Six Months

by Sunnyrea



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Screenplay/Script Format, The Eye, The Flesh - Freeform, The Lonely - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-21 23:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunnyrea/pseuds/Sunnyrea
Summary: The six months in between the ritual of The Unknowing and when The Archivist wakes up once more.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure if this has been done before but this is my version to cope with the gap between seasons! Tags and people will be updated as I go.

_(Click on)_

[Melanie] – how long it will still be standing. We have to go now!

[Martin] We don’t know how deep they might be inside it.

[Melanie] Just follow me.

[Martin] Careful! Look out, the –

_(Stone and wood crash)_

[Melanie] _(gasping)_ Shit! I think… _(gasps and shouts)_ Fuc –

[Martin] It’s okay, take my hand. Come on.

[Melanie] It’s going to fall, if we don’t –

[Martin] I know, take my hand, come on!

_(Gasping and grunts. Shifting rock and an ominous metal creak)_

[Martin] We can’t stay long. We have to find them now. How far do you think?

[Melanie] I don’t know, but we have to try. _(Gasping)_ If they survived, we need to get them out of here now. We have to try.

[Martin, _shouting_ ] Jon!

[Melanie] Don’t shout, Martin! You might – shit! _(Metal snapping and concrete shifting)_ Shit, shit…

_(A faint sound of static)_

[Martin] Do you hear that?

[Melanie] What?

_(Rock shifting, tumbling down.)_

[Melanie] There!

[Martin] What? I don’t see _(hiss)_ oh god, ow – the wall is…

[Melanie] There, right there, I see…

_(Creaking, rocks falling)_

[Martin] Careful!

[Melanie] Oh god, is that… Martin, help me move this beam. I think it’s...

_(Grunting, shifting rock and wood. A screeching crack like metal grinding against metal.)_

[Melanie] There, there I see… shit… oh shit… Tim.

[Martin] No, how can you…

[Melanie] Tim, Tim, can you… no, he’s

[Martin] That cannot be…

_(Sniffing, Melanie gasping in a choked manner. Quiet breathing barely under control.)_

[Martin] Melanie? It’s not him. _(firmly)_ It can’t be.

[Melanie] It’s him, Martin. Look. Can’t you… _(gasp)_ His tattoo. You can see it there, see? That stupid bird that he somehow pulled off.

_(Martin laughs breathily)_

[Melanie, _choking up_ ] It’s Tim. It is… it’s Tim. _(sniff)_ Tim? Tim, can you… God, why am I even…. Tim? Tim! Come on, Tim! _(Rocks shifting)_

[Martin] Melanie, stop, he’s gone.

[Melanie] You God damn idiot. _(Rocks shifting and the sound of fists on cloth)_ You just wanted to die, didn’t you? God damn it, Tim!

[Martin] Melanie, stop!

_(A heavy thump of a body being angrily dropped. An ominous creak of metal and two people gasping together in surprised fear.)_

[Martin, _breathing faster_ ] You said it might come down at any time.

[Melanie] I did.

[Martin] And we are still inside.

[Melanie] We are.

[Martin] So…

[Melanie, _shouting_ ] Basira!

[Martin] What are – you told me not to shout!

[Melanie] Daisy! Basira!

[Martin] Jon!

[Melanie] Basira, are you… Basira!

[Martin] Jon! Jon!

[Melanie] Dai – we sound like idiots. Come on, if Tim is… if… _(deep breath)_ The others can’t be far, they would have stuck together. We can find them.

[Martin, _unconvinced_ ] Right… right… how big is this building?

_(Rock crashes. The sounds of static once more)_

[Martin] I think I hear…

[Melanie] God, I can see one of them, the… the things.

[Martin] I hear something.

_(More static)_

[Melanie, _her voice fainter, from a different direction_ ] It’s a clown. I can see it. Shit, is this what they saw? That is a clown!

[Martin] I hear… Jon? Jon is that… I can hear you.

_(Static growing louder so Melanie is barely discernible)_

[Melanie] There are more body... I think this was the ritual, right here. Holy crap, there are so many. They look fake.

[Martin] Jon? Please, Jon, where are you?

_(Melanie’s voice in the distance but the words cannot be understood over the sound of static)_

[Martin] Jon…. Jon? Jon, I hear you. What are… what are you saying? I can’t…. 

_(Rock shifts, a scraping of rock against rock, pebbles tumbling and a sharp crack of wood.)_

_(Static that sounds like ‘please’)_

[Martin] Jon!

_(The static abruptly stops)_

[Martin] Jon! Jon! It’s Martin, wake… no, you can’t… _(the sound of moving cloth)_ You’re not…

[Melanie, _still distant_ ] I think I see her!

[Martin, _voice cracking_ ] Jon? I don’t… come on. _(Rocks shifting)_ Come on, Jon, please. I heard you. You have to wake up.

[Melanie, _in the distance_ ] Martin, come here.

[Martin] Jon, breathe. Wake up, we’ve already lost Tim. We can’t – I can’t lose you too. Open your eyes.

[Melanie, _closer now_ ] Martin!

[Martin, _breathing faster_ ] Jon, open your eyes. Wake up. I can see your eyes moving – I… you’re not breathing, God, you’re not breathing, but your eyes… your eyes are… Wake up, Jon!

[Melanie] Martin! Come on, Martin!

[Martin] Listen to me this time, Jon, and wake up, right now!

[Melanie] Let him go, Martin. I need you, come on!

[Martin] No, he’s…

[Melanie] He’s fine. Put him down and come with me!

[Martin] I can’t leave him, he – he might…

[Melanie] Put him down and get up, Martin! He will be just fine.

[Martin] No…

[Melanie] Listen to me, Martin. He is alive. Okay? He is alive but I need you now. I need your help with Basira, I found her.

[Martin, _his voice cracking_ ] He’s not breathing…

[Melanie] Basira is breathing! And we want her to keep breathing. Jon is alive and we will come back for him but right now I need your help to get Basira out of this falling building!

[Martin] How – how do you know Jon is alive?

[Melanie, _sighing_ ] Because of the tape recorder.

[Martin] What?

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

_(Silence but for an occasional drip of water. A faint clink of chain)_

[Elias] Well then? _(Pause)_ I would think you would prefer we start?

_(Still silence)_

[Elias] Come now, Peter, I believe I am the one that does the watching.

_(High pitched static, like a whisper)_

[Peter] Not all of us have such easy grace in, ah, social situations, Elias. Would you prefer I call you Elias here?

[Elias] As though it really matters.

[Peter] Yes, I think at times names are far too personal, aren’t they? Mustn’t get as close as that.

[Elias] I think you may be too late in my case, Peter.

[Peter] True.

[Elias] Well then, have you made all your introductions?

[Peter] Oh, I am ‘getting the ball rolling’ as you might say, though I can guess you would have already seen that for yourself.

[Elias] Now Peter, I can’t watch everything.

[Peter] Ah, I do enjoy your sense of humor, Elias, even if it does involve talking, not my favorite thing, but you do your best to put others at ease, don’t you? And to that I must say, lovely accommodations you have. I think possibly more to my taste that yours, so isolated and stark.

[Elias] True, _(chains clink)_ a jail cell was not my initial plan, but it works just fine.

[Peter] Yes, peaceful but with your same view. _(pause)_ In such a place as this I might be concerned you’re not really trying with our bet.

[Elias] Don’t be petulant, Peter. You are the one who has to prove me wrong, after all.

[Peter] Yes. Charming boy, your Martin.

[Elias] Not too charming for you, I expect? Though if you want to back out, now would be your chance.

[Peter] Oh, I don’t think so. In fact, maybe you should consider backing out. After all, it is always me who wins when we play this sort of game. 

[Elias] We will see.

[Peter] As you always do, Elias. Enjoy your loneliness here.

_(High pitched static then silence)_

[Elias] Clever. 

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

_(Steady breathing as of one in sleep. The hum of hospital machinery but no beep of a heart monitor.)_

_(A faint sound of static begins and a sigh cuts through the steady breath. The static increases and a gentle, pained noise interrupts the breathing this time. The static starts to rise again.)_

_(A door opens sharply)_

[Melanie] Martin?

_(Static cuts off)_

[Melanie] Martin? _(door closes)_ Martin, wake up.

[Martin, _groggy_ ] What? Melanie?

[Melanie] I said, wake up.

[Martin, _deep inhale_ ] Melanie.

[Melanie] Yes, that’s right, Melanie, the other person around here walking and talking. The person who was on your team, who you were working with but, oh, that’s right, who you decided to lie to.

[Martin, _obviously aware of what she is referring to_ ] Lie to you?

[Melanie] Don’t play a fucking game with me now, Martin. Elias. I am talking about Elias.

[Martin] Right.

[Melanie] Right? That’s what you’re going to say ‘right?’ You went behind my back, Martin! You didn’t tell me and now he’s –

[Martin, _voice harder_ ] And now, he’s in jail, where he should be. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?

[Melanie] You lied to me. You called the police and they took him, and you lied to me about it.

[Martin] I didn’t tell you.

[Melanie] That’s the same thing!

[Martin] Fine, whatever you want to think but I did what I had to and now he is gone.

[Melanie] Gone. Gone? He’s alive, Martin. He’s alive in some jail cell, he’s not gone.

[Martin] He is gone! He is as gone as we could make him. You gathered the evidence from his office yourself, remember, and now he’s not here, Melanie. He is out of the institute.

[Melanie] But he’s alive! He is not gone; he is alive out there while Tim and Daisy are dead!

[Martin, _voice placating_ ] I know.

[Melanie, _shouting_ ] Tim and Daisy are dead!

[Martin] I know.

[Melanie] And Elias gets to be alive?

[Martin] I know.

[Melanie] No, you don’t know! Damn it, Martin. You don’t know. Why does he deserve to be alive after what he did, after he… Tim and Daisy died to save the whole damn world and Elias gets to walk away?

[Martin] He ‘walked away’ in handcuffs.

[Melanie, _voice quieter and dangerous_ ] Don’t. Don’t, Martin. Tim and Daisy…

[Martin, _snapping_ '] Do you think I don’t know that? I was right beside you with Tim. I am sitting beside Jon’s hospital bed! I know!

[Melanie] And you still let Elias go? You let him leave!

[Martin] I sent him to prison. 

[Melanie] That’s not enough!

[Martin] What did you want, Melanie, another chance to kill him yourself?

[Melanie, _deflating_ ] I… I didn’t wa…. _(inhale)_ You don’t understand what he did to me.

[Martin, _voice still hard_ ] Oh, Melanie, I understand very well now, and you know that too.

_(Silence but for the hospital machines and a familiar whir of tape)_

[Melanie] Haven’t we had enough of secrets and plots? You should have told me.

[Martin] You know now.

[Melanie] We could have done it together.

[Martin] So you could have stabbed him in front of a cop?

[Melanie, _scoffing_ ] Right, Martin, sure, because you’re the only rational one.

[Martin] What do you want me to say, Melanie? I can’t… _(gasp)_ That was it, Elias, getting him out of the institute, that was it. That was all I had left to push out and now… _(voice cracking)_ now he is lying here not even breathing just… just…

[Melanie, _quietly_ ] Dreaming.

[Martin] Just… _(sharp inhale)_ I don’t have another move, nothing I can do to save – to help, to… nothing I can do to help him. _(Several deep breaths)_ I’m just… listening. I’m just sitting here and listening.

[Melanie] Listening?

[Martin] To him. To hear him. I am… _(inhale)_ I’m trying to hear him again.

_(Silence but for the hospital sounds which are fainter now as the whir of tape sounds louder. No sound of static.)_

[Melanie] Come on. Get up.

[Martin] Hmm?

[Melanie] Come with me.

[Martin] Where? Jon… I don’t… I don’t want…

[Melanie] I know, but come on now. _(Door opens)_ Basira is awake.

_(Click off)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(Click on)_

[Melanie] You should still keep it raised.

[Basira] I’m fine.

[Melanie] The doctor suggested staying in hospital a week more; you can at least make sure your leg –

[Basira] I was in hospital a month. Enough is enough.

[Melanie] That’s not how healing works.

[Martin] Here you are. _(clink of china)_ Fresh brew, milk, no sugar.

[Basira] You just brought me a cup.

[Martin] Uh, not just. That one is cold now, so I made you another. Tea can be, uh… restorative.

[Basira] I’m fine.

[Martin] Yes, fine with tea.

_(Basira sighing in an angry manner)_

[Melanie] Look, we just want to make sure you’re okay. You’re lucky you only had a concussion and some broken bones.

[Martin] And her hand.

[Melanie] I said broken bones!

[Martin] Well, hands are… different.

[Melanie, _sighing_ ] Martin…

[Basira, _insistent_ ] I’m fine! Tell me about Daisy.

[Martin] I think maybe you should drink your tea first. It could help –

[Basira] Do not tell me to drink my tea, Martin.

[Melanie] You’re just out of hospital and we told you already…

[Basira] You told me she is dead. That’s not enough.

[Melanie, _sighing lightly_ ] Basira, I am so sorry.

[Basira] Save it. Tell me what you know. You said there was no body.

[Melanie] I… yes, but…

[Basira] But nothing, no body means no proof of death.

[Melanie] Basira…

[Basira] I have to be sure. That ritual, those monsters, _(voice heavier)_ this place… No body does not mean dead, not always.

[Melanie] It doesn’t mean alive either.

[Martin] You’ve been unwell for a while. Maybe give it another few days to rest and then see what you’re feeling.

[Basira] This is not about what I am feeling, Martin, so don’t placate me. I was a cop and I’m not daft. _(inhale)_ Daisy might be dead, that’s true enough. I know what can happen to a body so no one will ever find it.

[Melanie, _quietly_ ] Christ…

[Basira] But so does Daisy.

[Martin] Are you saying she might have, what, used this to escape?

[Basira] I’m saying I have to be sure. I need to see the police reports on the theater and what they found.

[Melanie] Right, cause I have that in the desk next door in Jon’s office.

_(Martin exhales audibly)_

[Basira] I still have friends on the force. I might be able to get access. But what do you know now?

[Melanie] We told you in hospital what we know.

[Basira] You ducked me in the hospital, talked about world saved and Elias in jail, ‘all good now,’ but you pretty well skipped past Daisy.

[Martin] The police told us they did not find her after their search. There was enough rubble and other… bodies in the theater that she has to be dead, Basira. It’s astonishing enough that you and… and Jon came out.

[Melanie, _scoffing_ ] More or less.

_(A chair scrapes across the floor)_

[Melanie] Martin, wait. Martin, I –

_(Door opens and shuts again sharply)_

_(Melanie sighing)_

[Basira] What else?

_(Silence, a faint clink of china)_

[Basira] What else, Melanie?

[Melanie] What do you want me to say, Basira? Tim is dead, Jon is comatose, and you were broken. We just… nothing, okay? There was nothing else. There were enough bodies in that theater arranged for the ritual and enough of a wreckage from the explosion that nothing was left, right? Nothing of Daisy. If she was right near the explosives….

[Basira] Yeah, I know.

[Melanie] So, what do you want? A miracle, Daisy behind door number 2? We are all lost now! Okay? Martin is a wreck; you are just barely alive, and I am… I am still stuck here! _(Deep inhale)_ We saved the world, yeah, but we can’t seem to save ourselves.

_(Silence, the whir of the tape sounds more apparent)_

[Basira] They are still happening then.

[Melanie] I… what?

[Basira] The tape recorders.

[Melanie] Where do you… oh God, I can’t belie –

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Melanie, _sighing_ ] Okay. Statement of Miranda Hodgson, statement date April 15th, 2015 about her… _(papers rustling)_ encounter with a street performer. Oh god… _(sighing)_ Right, sure, okay. Melanie King recording… because why not.

_(Clap)_

I can’t say for sure if this is… ‘a thing’ or not because everyone makes choices, right? Things change, people take their lives in different directions and sometimes people have crises. It’s a thing, I’ve read about it. Quarter life crisis, where you’re in your late twenties, out of uni and afraid of turning thirty, really being an adult and all that; and people get drastic, freaking out that they’re starting their life out wrong. So maybe this is just that. Maybe I am just hitting my quarter life crisis a little late? I mean thirty-two is still in that time frame, right?

I’m sorry. I’m just… I was in Victoria when this happened. I was attending a mixer for recent alums of University of Westminster. I’d graduated about five years before and the school likes to keep alumni involved. My life has been a bit slow right now and uni has that nostalgia, so I went. Afterward I was heading back toward the tube. The streets were still pretty busy as it was a warm night out and the shops weren’t closed yet. I was on my own, none of my close friends had gone to the event because it was a Tuesday night. I was considering stopping for a salad or something as the mixer had been sparse on food, when I saw a statue on the corner. 

It was a man holding an accordion, one of those round old ones where the end pieces are only as wide as your hand and it has no keys. It was pulled about as wide as the statue’s torso, as if he was seconds away from starting a song. I stepped closer, thinking this was an odd statue for central London when I realized it wasn’t a statue but a real person, one of those performers who paint themselves up to look like a statue and then just stand still for hours at a time. I’ve always thought that kind of thing is a bit mad, but you have to be impressed by the discipline. I stepped closer, thinking to maybe give him a coin when I looked at his face. His eyes were closed and at first glance you would think he was smiling but that wasn’t it, it was a grimace. His –

_(Door opens)_

[Melanie] Oh, hey.

[Basira] What is this? _(Paper flaps)_

[Melanie] An e-mail?

[Basira] “Memo regarding restructuring of the department of communications.”

[Melanie] Right, yeah, Peter. Elias put him in charge somehow and we had no say in it, even with everything the bastard has done.

[Basira] But Peter is here, actually doing administration? _(Paper shifting)_ Like ‘restructuring.’

[Melanie] Guess so. I haven’t seen him.

[Basira] What, today?

[Melanie] Ever.

[Basira] You haven’t seen him at all? Have you gone to his office?

[Melanie, _hissing_ ] I will not set foot in Elias’ office ever again if I can help it.

[Basira] Right, fine, but how can you not have seen him? Wouldn’t the new boss want to introduce himself?

[Melanie] Martin has met him.

[Basira] And?

[Melanie] And what? He is a boss, he sends e-mails, never appears and seems like he is just another kind of monster we are trapped here with.

[Basira, _sighing_ ] But maybe he is one we can use, that can help us.

[Melanie] Oh, sure, right, because Elias would leave someone helpful to us in charge.

[Basira] Helpful is not always the same as useful.

[Melanie] What do you mean?

[Basira] I mean he might have access; access I can use to learn more.

[Melanie] Do you… do you mean Daisy?

_(Basira sighing in a frustrated way)_

[Melanie] You said you’ve looked into some of her hide outs, right? And if she wasn’t there…

[Basira] It’s my business, Melanie. I have to check them all. Daisy is smart, she might not have left the kind of clues you would think of. I can find her.

[Melanie] Unless there is nothing to find.

[Basira, _tone sharp_ ] So nothing more you know about Peter?

[Melanie] You’ve got to let her go, Basira. I’m not happy either but –

[Basira] I’ll look into Peter myself then. 

_(Door opening)_

[Melanie] Basira, wait, if – _(door closing)_ right… Right.

 _(Clearing throat)_ It was a grimace. His mouth was shaped like a smile should be, but the expression was clearly one of pain. I thought maybe at first it was just this guy holding his pose too long. I mean, it has to make you ache after a while, right? I thought he would shift right as I was watching, but he didn’t. He stayed absolutely still as if he was the actual statue he was painted up to be – gray like stone, even on his teeth. I thought that was odd just as I noticed it. I mean, who goes so far as to paint their teeth, right? Wouldn’t that be dangerous if he ingested any of it? 

It was starting to creep me out as I stood there so I just moved on without giving him anything and headed toward the tube. As I passed by him, rounding the corner, for a second I thought I heard music. I turned back thinking I was right all along and that he was about to start playing but he looked just the same, same pose and same frozen grimace. The accordion was not moving. So I kept going, thought I’d imagined it.

I live in Greenwich. It’s a nice flat, barely a five-minute walk from my tube stop. When I got off, I was starting to feel tired. I’d only had two glasses of wine at the mixer and that’s the perfect amount to make me sleepy. So, I accidentally dropped my oyster card on my way out. As I crouched to pick it up, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, something gray. I stood up again, card in hand, and saw at the corner of the walkway leading away from the tube stop was a statue. This surprised me in about five different ways because, well, first off, I knew a statue had never been there before. I’ve lived in the area long enough and I would have known. Second, this is Greenwich. It’s not a bustling area of commerce and pub stops. It’s residential. You don’t stick a statue on the corner. Also, I recognized the statue because it wasn’t a statue. It was the same guy all painted up with his accordion that I’d seen in Victoria.

I walked slowly toward him, I had to, that was the direction I was going. I tried to tell myself it had to be a different person. I mean, we’ve seen these performers all around, it’s not like there is just one and how could he have beaten me here? But I knew, despite my rational brain trying to explain it away, I knew it was the same guy; same accordion, some shade of paint, same grimace. But it wasn’t the same, not exactly. It was his face, the… smile. It was tighter, even less of a smile. His mouth was open now, just a small gap between his painted teeth. It looked like he was about to scream… 

_(groan)_ Shit, I… 

_(Door opens)_

[Martin] Melanie?

[Melanie] Hey, just… reading a statement. _(muttering)_ For all the good it does. Why I’m even… _(perking up)_ Oh, is that tea?

[Martin] Yes. One sugar?

[Melanie] Yeah, one sugar. You didn’t have to.

[Martin] I… I needed something to… right, yeah. _(China clinking on the table)_

[Melanie] Martin, are you… are you okay?

[Martin] Hmm?

[Melanie, _tone darker_ ] Have you been to see Jon again?

[Martin] Jon? I – yes, but that’s not… _(sigh)_ I went this morning and he’s still… still the same.

[Melanie] Right…

[Martin] I did the… the filing of… what with the shifting in research and… Rosie brought us, yeah, Rosie brought a box of statements and…

[Melanie] I saw her, this is one of them actually. Said they’d been put in archive storage by accident. _(pause)_ Martin, you look… are you sure you’re okay? I mean… _(sigh, muttering)_ none of us are really. _(clears throat)_ Are you okay?

[Martin] _(pause)_ My mum died.

[Melanie, _cough_ ] Oh – I, oh… Martin, I’m… I’m sorry.

[Martin] It’s all right. _(deep inhale)_ I think maybe she’d prefer it now.

[Melanie, _awkwardly_ ] Ha… I…. Martin, that’s…

[Martin] Enjoy your tea.

_(Door opens)_

[Melanie] Martin, wait a minute, I – _(Door closes)_ ah, okay… I guess that is a trend today. _(Paper shuffling)_ Okay then.

I tried to walk as far to the other side of the road past him out into the main street, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him – wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to fall for any jump scare this guy might be planning. But he didn’t move. He did not move at all from his almost scream when I heard the music again. He wasn’t moving even an inch as I walked around him – that music I could tell was an accordion now, circus-like. His mouth did not change, even though I felt it growing more pained – I felt it even though it did not move when he sang, ‘join the dance.’ And as soon as I heard it, I wanted to.

[Melanie, _huffing and the crunch of paper_ ] God… no way. 

_(China clinks and the sound of gulping. Melanie hisses and the china clatters)_

[Melanie] I can’t. No. _(Dark chuckle)_ Right. Let me just sum up this nightmare, she walks back to her flat, sees the statue again, full on silent screaming this time, keeps hearing the song. And since then she is starting to paint herself to join the dance. Just like The Unknowing! Wonderful.

[Melanie, _bitterly_ ] Statement ends!

_(Click off)_


	3. Chapter 3

_(Click on)_

_(Door opens, the sound of distant conversation and the beep of hospital machinery)_

[Martin] Hi, Jon.

_(Door closes and near silence returns, a quiet hum of machines)_

[Martin, _sighing_ ] How are… no, no I should… _(sigh)_ Melanie said I should stop talking to you like you can hear me. It is not helping me, or you… probably. And here I am still talking to you. _(heavier sigh, then a puffed exhale of air)_ No, no I am going to keep talking to you, Jon. Someone has to. 

_(pause, a louder whir of tape)_

[Martin] I am not giving up on you, Jon. Can you hear that? _(voice slightly choked)_ I am not giving up on you, not yet.

_(Sound of a zipper and shuffling paper)_

[Martin] I brought you a statement. I thought, well… it might help. Would you like that? A statement? I haven’t tried that yet. Maybe it… maybe you’ll hear it.

_(Pause, only the whir of tape)_

[Martin] Okay, right, okay, Jon, maybe you’ll… _(a whisper)_ please hear this.

[Martin, _voice stronger_ ] Statement of Christopher Hall, dated September 1935, on his life as a lighthouse keeper.

I have always lived at the lighthouse. Perhaps I had a life before, as men do – a birth, a childhood – but my life is, has always been, the lighthouse. I know every cramped room, every etch of its curved walls; I know the texture of each stair underneath my foot as I climb toward the precipice. I need not count the stairs as their number is as known to me as the act of breathing, something without necessary thought. I know the smoothness of the light handles, the up, the down, the sound of the crank to turn the light upon fearful boats. I know the very shade of the light itself, how near white or yellow, how it changes with a starry night or the thick of fog. The light house lives as me as much as I live within it. I fear if I should die that the lighthouse would crumble down toward the earth in the same moment my heart stops. I could never allow that. The lighthouse is my home, my haven, my seclusion; the lighthouse is like a lover, one I will never leave and allow no other to harm or inhabit. Others have tried. 

I understand the world beyond. A world of numbers and charts and laws and expectations. They say age should affect me and might not another, younger, be better suited. The lighthouse is a necessity, a protection to the isolated ships upon the sea. It cannot fail. And why should they think I to fail? Why would another be needed. One is enough; one should be enough; I am enough.

And yet they sent a boy. Perhaps twenty, I could not say with certainty as what should I care? My lighthouse is ageless and I with it. But a boy appeared upon a dingy and set his feet inside my castle. He spoke fine words, assured words of his need, of his necessity. He did not speak of the lighthouse and what it should need. I told him, “two is too many.” He ignored me, ignored the lighthouse’s warning, the shade of it’s light dulled upon him. 

So when he laid down to sleep come night _(Martin’s voice sounds strained)_ he did not wake upon the morning. His breath gone and only his mind to search within the abyss because perhaps he has his own lighthouse – or woodland cabin or arctic ship – his own _(A shuddering breath)_ deep slumber. 

The lighthouse is mine… my temple…. Me alone, my blessed loneliness.

_(Sharp gasp and the sound of paper falling)_

[Martin] This isn’t… this isn’t the statement I… _(heavy breathing)_ I didn’t… not… _(voice steadier)_ I didn’t pick that statement. I didn’t. Not that.

_(Whir of the tape recorder)_

[Martin] Was it you? Did you give me this one instead? _(pause)_ What? What are you trying to tell me because this _(sharp flick of paper)_ , this is not Jon. Do you hear me? _(Scrape of the tape recorder over the table)_ This is not Jon, none of it. Not Jon, not me! _(Clatter of the tape recorder being dropped)_

_(Door opens)_

[Basira] Martin?

[Martin, _sharply_ ] What? _(pause then a sigh)_ Yes, uh, what is it?

[Basira] You’re here again.

[Martin] You can see me sitting here.

[Basira] It’s been months, Martin. You don’t need to come every day.

[Martin] That’s not your business.

[Basira] We have to focus on other things now. If Jon is going to wake up, he’ll wake up no different from you being here so much.

[Martin] You don’t know that.

[Basira] We have to figure out the institute, how we can –

[Martin, _sharper_ ] And maybe we need Jon to do that, hmm? Did you think about that, officer?

[Basira, _harsher and insistent_ ] Jon is basically dead. He can’t help us.

[Martin] His hands are warm... He is not dead.

[Basira] But he’s not much alive either, is he?

[Martin, _scoff_ ] That’s real pot calling the kettle black from you, Basira, still searching for Daisy.

[Basira, _tone colder_ ] That’s different.

[Martin] Is it? How?

_(Pause)_

[Basira] What makes you think he’ll ever wake up? 

[Martin] I… he has…

[Basira] There are enough statements from people talking about these… things feeling like forever, like they last a billion years or just disappearing. What if this is that? What if he is already gone?

[Martin, _voice strained_ ] He is not gone. He is right here.

_(Pause, just the sounds of the hospital outside the room)_

[Basira] Right, come with me.

[Martin] _(A chair shifting)_ I am not leaving yet.

[Basira, _insistent_ ] Come with me, Martin. Two of the researchers at the institute have disappeared.

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

_(The sounds of turning pages. The click of a pen and faint muttering. The click of fingers on computer keys.)_

_(A light tapping then a door opens)_

[Martin] Melanie? _(Door closes)_ Basira said you were back. 

[Melanie] Mmhmm. _(keyboard tapping)_

[Martin] What are you… _(throat clearing)_ what are you working on?

[Melanie] Research. My job, if you can call it that.

[Martin] Right, okay. Right back to work. You were... uh, you were gone a week.

[Melanie] Well, when all the lights in my flat kept burning out and the dark started to creep up my feet, I figured I had to give in to the imprisonment.

[Martin] Impr…. Imprisonment?

[Melanie] What, is the institute a grand hotel to you, Martin?

[Martin] It’s our job.

[Melanie, _laughing_ ] Right, okay, lie to yourself.

[Martin, _sighing_ ] I know, I know. But it feels better to say it that way.

[Melanie] Right, lying to yourself.

[Martin] Fine. But you were gone a week. I thought…

[Melanie] That I’d found a way? That things had changed? No, no Martin. I lasted five days away from here before some of these – those – this… before all of this tried to come for me, and I wasn’t doing well even before that.

[Martin] Yeah… Tim said it made him feel sick.

[Melanie] Exactly but that’s not enough now, it seems. Looks like all these other fears or whatever are coming for us.

[Martin] Well, we did stop The Unknowing.

[Melanie] And put a target on our backs!

[Martin, _insistent_ ] And saved the world.

[Melanie, _scoffing_ ] Right, great, and what about us? What about our freedom? What about breaking this place’s hold on us?

[Martin] I… I don’t…

[Melanie] What about forcing Elias to let us go? What about him gone and us out of here? What about that?

[Martin] It wouldn’t have worked, Melanie.

[Melanie, _coldly_ ] You didn’t even try.

[Martin] Killing him only has one try, Melanie! He dies and then us too, there is no second chance for that!

[Melanie] Because he told you that we would die. Elias told you. The man who only lies. 

[Martin] We couldn’t take that risk!

[Melanie] You couldn’t.

[Martin] You don’t speak for everyone.

[Melanie] Oh, and you do? Your decision to lock him up instead.

[Martin] He got what he deserved. At least he isn’t here spying on us. 

[Melanie] What do you think these are then? Hmm? _(Rattle of a tape recorder)_ I never turn the damn things on, but they still appear, don’t they? Who do you think can hear them?

_(Silence)_

[Melanie] He got into my head, Martin. He got into yours! He forced us to… Christ, he is still forcing us through this – this torture! We are as trapped as he is, more even! I thought, okay I should try this, maybe Martin was right. I stayed home, away from the institute, because Elias was out and maybe things had changed. Well. _(Hands slap on the table)_ It didn’t. We are trapped here, and we don’t deserve this!

[Martin] So… So what, trying to kill him is a better option, one that might have left us all dead? What would that have solved?

[Melanie] Is this really any better than being dead?

_(Pause)_

[Martin, _quietly_ ] You don’t mean that.

[Melanie] No, Martin, I mean that Tim is dead, Daisy is dead, your Sasha dead even before this. Jon… 

[Martin, _quickly_ ] Jon is not dead.

[Melanie] Right, not dead but maybe not even Jon anymore.

[Martin] Stop…

[Melanie] And this place, Elias, that is what put him where he is now, made him what he is, and you are fine with a jail cell for Elias? You are fine with our own cage here?

[Martin] Stop! I never said I was fine with it!

[Melanie] Sure, Martin. I believe you. All you really care about is Jon anyway, what does it matter if the rest of us are trapped?

_(Laptop slams closed and a chair skids across the floor.)_

[Martin] Melanie… it’s not…

_(The door opens then slams closed. Martin sighs)_

_(High pitched static)_

[Peter] Work colleague relationships can be troublesome, can’t they?

[Martin, _gasping_ ] Wha – Peter – oh… you… 

[Peter] So much bickering and opinions and you don’t get to choose who you work with which can certainly make for strained relations.

[Martin] You were listening.

[Peter] I prefer to stay out of office politics and such personal relationships but as I am in charge of the institute now, unfortunately, I have to take some notice of how my staff behave and perform their jobs.

[Martin] Like the researchers?

[Peter] Like you Martin.

[Martin, _somewhat plaintive_ ] You can’t just… disappear people.

[Peter] Let’s not worry about them now, what’s done is done. I think it is more interesting to talk about you.

[Martin] Me.

[Peter] Yes, I did say you and I would do great things together.

[Martin, _deadpan_ ] “Great things.”

[Peter] Well, I wouldn’t want to give it all away just yet, but I think we could work well together. 

[Martin] With The Lonely?

[Peter] Now, now, Martin, there is no need for that look. We have plenty of time. For now, I just want to make sure we maintain good relations.

[Martin] Good relations? _(Inhale, his voice steadier)_ Well, you could start by not… disappearing any more staff.

[Peter] Hmmm… it really is so much easier than having to talk to anyone but, well, if you insist.

[Martin] I do.

[Peter, _amused_ ] Hmm! Fine then. I think I am a good enough boss to listen to my staff’s concerns.

[Martin] Right… so, was there anything else?

[Peter] I am sure you know that the ritual you stopped is not the only one.

[Martin] Yes, there… I know there is more out there.

[Peter] Oh yes, not just all your statements either.

[Martin] What?

[Peter] New things afoot, newer than most of us _(the sound of high-pitched static increases temporarily)_ would care to admit.

[Martin] What do you mean?

[Peter] I mean that eventually I will need your help.

[Martin] Me?

[Peter] Why yes, Martin, you are, hmm, ideal.

[Martin] I think… I think I should leave now. If you… _(clears throat)_ if you wouldn’t mind?

[Peter, _chuckling_ ] Oh yes, I do think we will get on well. As to your colleagues, I understand disagreements can be stressful. Feel free to use my office whenever you like. _(Significant pause)_ I find it helps to be alone.

_(High pitched static)_

_(Martin exhales loudly and thumps into a chair)_

[Martin] God…

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Basira] – and we can’t accomplish anything if he hears us.

_(The sound of clattering and clanking then the swish of a plastic bag)_

[Martin] We can’t be sure that’s what they are doing.

[Melanie] What? The tape recorders are just their own thing then? Like rats?

_(Another clatter of plastic)_

[Basira] It doesn’t matter exactly what they are doing, allowing Elias to hear us or something else, something bigger. They are not right.

[Martin] They are just tape recorders!

_(Melanie laughs bitterly)_

[Basira] We have to get rid of them.

[Martin] Wait, what if…

[Melanie] What if, what, Martin? They are spying on us, all the time! When is the last time you turned on one by choice?

[Martin] _(long pause)_ I…

[Melanie] That should be easier to answer, shouldn’t it? Inanimate objects coming to life and having a will of their own means bad!

[Martin] We might need them.

[Melanie] What, to record statements?

[Martin, _voice quiet_ ] What if Jon needs them?

_(Silence but for sound of another tape recorder falling)_

[Basira] And what if he doesn’t, Martin? What if these only make him worse?

[Martin] We can’t know that!

[Melanie] What? Like we couldn’t know about Elias for sure, but you still went and –

[Martin] This isn’t about that!

[Basira, _louder over both of them_ ] No, it’s not. This is about us. This is about doing something.

[Martin] What if… I don’t know, what if we just kept one? Just in case?

[Basira] I am doing this. You can try and stop me if you want but I wouldn’t recommend it.

_(Pause as more tape recorders drop. A zip tie squeaks then plastic rustles again.)_

[Martin] What are you going to do with them?

_(The tape recorder recording clatters over the table)_

[Basira] Burn them.

_(Click off)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(Click on)_

[Basira, _voice low_ ] There has to be something…

_(The flip of paper and the slide of a binder)_

[Basira] Okay, James Wright then… 1996, Elias Bouchard. What did you do to Wright, Elias, hmm? _(sigh)_ Nothing else about… _(pages flipping)_ filing clerk? Promoted from a filing clerk to head of the institute?

_(Faint sound of footsteps in the distance, something wet to the sound)_

_(Binder closing and the shuffle of paper)_

[Basira] 1996… is there…

_(Footsteps growing nearer and something creaking)_

[Basira] What is that… _(sniff)_

_(A metal filing cabinet snaps closed quietly. Footsteps sound closer. A monotone sound like an off-tune radio, not quite static)_

[Basira] I can hear you. Don’t bother sneaking.

_(Wet splats and a groan)_

[Basira] Don’t make me come out there. Melanie, if this is – the hell!

[FLESH] F̴̲͋͛͆͗̾̉ẹ̵̆͠e̵̪̓͋̇͂͜ḏ̷̺̂͛̍͒̈̋ ̷̧̓͝t̷̢̹̖͊̌̂ͅh̴̙̭̥̤͝ȇ̸͓̼͂̅̋̏͝ ̵̢̺͚̲̳̒h̴̢̟͙̙͔̤̐̃́̈͆ų̵̝͊͐̽̏͐͘n̶̝̱͇͈͙̅͛͂͝͠ǵ̶̬̝̤͊ė̸̡͕͓̦̼̓̄̚̚ŕ̷̹̥͍̒͛̕

[Basira, _breathing fast_ ] You’re one of… _(gasp)_ god, smells like… Stay back!

_(Something metal crashing and Basira shouts. Footsteps advancing with splatting sounds. The tone louder, like piercing base)_

[Basira] Stay back, I said, or I’ll – crap, where is… Stay back!

FLESH] F̶̥̓e̵͎͒͑e̴͉̫̖̚d̶̪̰̎̔ ̵̲͑t̶̛̫̻ḥ̶̮̌e̶͚͛ ̷̦͚̣̓̄͗n̴͑̔́͜e̸̝̕͠e̴̺͚͊̈̍ḍ̶̛̻̏̒i̵͎͠n̸̫͈̎̅͜g̵̊͠ͅ ̵̼́͜f̵̪̗͠l̶̩̠͕͋̃e̶̯͖̟͐s̶̩̓h̶̻͍͐̕

[Basira] Get out of my way! _(gasp)_ Stay back!

_(A loud crash of a falling cabinet and Basira screams)_

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Martin, _voice quiet_ ] All right, back together again. Can’t keep you away? _(tapping noise on tape recorder)_ May as well then. _(inhale)_ Statement of Jody McCrew given 23rd July 2014 about her job at Sainsbury’s. Oh! _(chuckle then abrupt stop)_ Oh… _(muttering)_ I already don’t like where this is going… 

_(Inhale)_ Statement beings.

Please tell me I am just crazy. I would rather be crazy. I would so much rather be crazy than anything I saw being real. Do you have any recommendations, psychiatrists, therapists, exorcists? No, I can’t even be funny right now. I can’t believe I have to write this down. I’ll try to be brief.

I work as Sainbury’s near Charring Cross. It’s a busy area so the store is often packed. Busy area with lots of busy people passing through to and from work or travel, so you can imagine the tempers. You’d think grocery would be different but it’s just the same as any retail, self-important people, messes to clean up and shelves to stock. You have to be on your toes, not let any item be ‘out’ and hear from a customer or your manager bitching about where the rotini is. The only difference is that it’s food and some of it’s fresh. 

Fresh… fuck, too fresh. What I saw was fresh all right; it was fresh off whatever died for it and, lord, it better have been an animal but I’m not sure. That’s the problem here, I am not sure. Because one night I go to get ready and stock the meat for the next morning, just chicken, the same Styrofoam and plastic packets everyone sees in every grocery store anywhere. Except when I got to the freezer, the packets were open. Not just open, there were no packets at all, just stacks of red and bloody fresh meat. At first I thought someone was playing a prank; 18-year-olds working alongside you and don’t know how to act like adults yet. I thought, this is them getting one on for being a girl or something else daft. But… but then the meat it… God… it moved. The pieces of meat, one by one, began to fall off the freezer shelves. 

I just stared, thinking I must be dreaming. Then they started to stack. Stack one of top of the other, meat slab upon dripping meat slap just –

_(A door slams open, cracking into the wall)_

[Martin, _shouting with surprise_ ] Basira!

[Basira, _gasping_ ] Help me!

_(The door slams closed)_

[Martin] Help with – God, what is that smell? 

[Basira] Get up! Help me with this!

[Martin] What is happening?

[Basira, _insistent_ ] Help me hold the door right now!

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Melanie] No, I don’t want green tea, I just want… ah ha. Good.

_(Gentle sounds of water percolating. A cabinet door opens.)_

[Melanie] Cow mug? Heh, I would say Martin but… _(clattering noise)_ Hello?

_(Silence but for the bubble of water)_

[Melanie] Okay. Right. _(cabinet door closing)_ Ghost mug it is. Probably… _(sigh)_ probably Tim.

_(Tap of mug on counter. Pause. Tapping sound of nails on counter)_

[Melanie, _sniff_ ] What is… _(refrigerator door opening. Melanie sniffing again)_ Has the milk… _(Sound of cardboard shifting)_ No… _(sniff)_ Martin always has… no… _(refrigerator door closes)_

[Melanie] Where is it? _(more sniffing)_ It better not be... _(water tap turns on)_ Okay, so it’s not – wait, what… _(the water starts to sound thick and gloppy)_ What the fuck is…

_(Thick sounds continue. A creaking pipe noise. Melanie’s breath coming faster. A loud splatting and Melanie shouts in fearful surprise)_

[Melanie] What is… shit, shit… _(Splatting turns to a slurping and squishing, the noise more massive)_ God, It’s… you’re… What is happening?

[FLESH] F̴̲͋͛͆͗̾̉ẹ̵̆͠e̵̪̓͋̇͂͜ḏ̷̺̂͛̍͒̈̋ ̷̧̓͝t̷̢̹̖͊̌̂ͅh̴̙̭̥̤͝ȇ̸͓̼͂̅̋̏͝ ̵̢̺͚̲̳̒h̴̢̟͙̙͔̤̐̃́̈͆ų̵̝͊͐̽̏͐͘n̶̝̱͇͈͙̅͛͂͝͠ǵ̶̬̝̤͊ė̸̡͕͓̦̼̓̄̚̚ŕ̷̹̥͍̒͛̕

[Melanie, _breathing fast_ ] Stay there! Don't...

[FLESH] F̴̲͋͛͆͗̾̉ẹ̵̆͠e̵̪̓͋̇͂͜ḏ̷̺̂͛̍͒̈̋ ̷̧̓͝t̷̢̹̖͊̌̂ͅh̴̙̭̥̤͝ȇ̸͓̼͂̅̋̏͝ ̵̢̺͚̲̳̒h̴̢̟͙̙͔̤̐̃́̈͆ų̵̝͊͐̽̏͐͘n̶̝̱͇͈͙̅͛͂͝͠ǵ̶̬̝̤͊ė̸̡͕͓̦̼̓̄̚̚ŕ̷̹̥͍̒͛̕

[Melanie] What are you?

_(A chair hits the floor followed by another splatting noise)_

[Melanie] You’re… god, you came through the pipes? You’re… _(plates clatter and shatter on the floor)_

[FLESH] F̴̞̜̂̌̅̃͠e̶̤̐͌e̷̼͓̗̰͚̲͒̇̏͛ď̷̳

[Melanie] Don't come near me!

_(The water kettle starts to squeal)_

[FLESH] F̴̞̜̂̌̅̃͠e̶̤̐͌e̷̼͓̗̰͚̲͒̇̏͛ď̷̳

[Melanie] I said, don't! _(Water splashes followed by a low guttural scream)_

[Melanie] Ha! Boiling water isn’t good for any – Ah! _(sound of a body hitting the floor)_ Fuck! _(A kick hitting wet meat)_

_(Melanie scrambling back across the floor. A table skidding across tile and smashing into the wall. Melanie shouts in pain.)_

[Melanie] Don’t touch me!

_(The slink of metal across the counter. Melanie shouts and a knife stabs into flesh. A loud garbled scream.)_

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

_(Banging on a door)_

[Martin] What is it?

[Basira] I don’t know. I was in the filing room, looking for… It wasn’t… it wasn’t human.

_(Bang)_

[Martin] Not human like what?

[Basira] Like… just mangled flesh, like someone had taken a person and twisted them up. You know, ‘Silent Hill’ with that jerking walk.

_(Bang. Martin hisses. A shoulder knocks against wood.)_

[Martin] If we move the desk –

[Basira] Neither of us can hold the door alone.

_(Bang Bang)_

[Martin] I can, I weigh more than you do and –

[Basira] Barely!

[Martin] – And the desk is metal, heavy.

[Basira] Too heavy for me to move fast enough!

_(Bang)_

[Martin] What happened? Did you see? What about the others, the researchers upstairs?

[Basira] I can’t be sure. I didn’t hear anything beforehand, no screams or commotion. I was just looking through files. It was quiet and then it just…

_(Bang)_

[Martin, _gasping_ ] Just what? Broke down the wall, came up from the tunnels, what?

[Basira, _angry and panicked_ ] It just came through the door! It walked, lumbered, just moved right through the door from the hall. One of them only had legs, one with an arm coming from its chest, and I didn’t have my gun; they have no faces, Martin!

_(Bang Bang. Martin grunting with the impact.)_

[Basira] We can’t stay here.

[Martin, _rambling quietly_ ] It’s like before, like with Prentiss. Like when… but we have no… _(louder)_ What do we do?

[Basira] You’re the one who fought them off last time. I just came to investigate the murder!

[Martin] This isn’t the same, it was worms before.

_(Bang. Cracking wood)_

[Basira] I read the report. _(Shifting sound and creak of wood)_ We can’t stay here. We have to move.

[Martin, _fearful_ ] Move where? Elias’ office has one door and we are on it!

[Basira] I will not die in Elias’ damn office!

_(Bang. Snapping metal)_

[Basira] The handle!

[Martin] Here, Here, put –

[Basira] It’s not enough to – Christ!

_(Splatting noise and crunching wood)_

[Martin] Get back, it’s going to –

_(Crashing wood, the door slamming into the wall and metal screeching)_

[Martin] Basira!

[Basira] Move, Martin! Move!

_(Martin screams, body hits the floor. Gurgling and wet sounds. The snap of hinges and the door crashing to the floor)_

[Basira] Martin! Get up! You have to – Shit! _(thump of a body on the floor)_ Don’t touch me, you – _(Basira screams)_

[FLESH] M̶̻̬̒̄̐e̶̛̳̭̹͔̽̆ä̷͇̜͉̣́̓̓̐͐ṱ̸̡̗͕̭̑̌ ̷̛͓͍̟̂̈͜n̸͍̟̊̿e̶̡̗͒ḛ̴̛̐̈͘d̷̹̾̄̚̕s̵̤̦͉̹̄͒̆͝ ̸̘̾͒̚m̷̧̻̫̫̽̚͘e̴͕͖͎̳̖̟̐͊ǎ̷̧̢͇̭͍̖͆͊̂̅ţ̶̖̬̺̿͐̓̀̚

[Martin, _weakly_ ] Basira…

_(Basira makes choking noises. Struggling and more choking noises from Basira. The slap of wet flesh and deep moaning. Violent struggling as choking grows worse.)_

[Melanie] Basira!

_(Sharp sound of metal stabbing into flesh. A deep base shout and growl. Melanie grunting loudly in time with the sound of stabs. Then heavy flesh smashes into metal)_

_(Basira coughs and retches, then inhales ragged and sharp.)_

[Basira, _wheezing_ ] I can breathe. I can breathe.

[Martin] Roll left Basira!

_(Thumping sound and Martin shouting sharply)_

[Melanie, _breath heavy and a slash of metal_ ] Move, Martin!

[Basira, _weakly_ ] Martin, are you - 

[Melanie] Monsters! You damn… monsters! _(Continued sound of metal stabbing into flesh.)_ Get up! _(Stabbing again)_ Come on! Take my hand, Basira, come on! Stand up.

_(Basira groans and Martin cries out. Wet splat and something smashing against the desk. Another sound of stabbing.)_

[Basira] It was… _(gasp then coughing)_ It was in my throat! I can’t… _(gasp)_ It was down my throat!

[Melanie] Come on, get behind me. Can you use your arm, Martin?

[Martin, _hissing_ ] Enough.

[Melanie] Hold onto Basira. There are more of them, we have to run. Now!

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Melanie] – and turn here. Shit, it looks like blood.

[Martin] It is blood!

[Melanie] This is worse than from when I… It’s down the whole hall!

[Martin] There are chunks – god, do you see…

[Melanie] I see it!

_(Shifting wet sounds)_

[Martin] It’s moving – God – it’s…

[Basira] I can run. I can. Let’s go!

[FLESH] F̸̢̳̳̻̆̈́̽̈́e̴̬̣͈͂̒̓̅͜e̸̘̽̚d̷͖͛̈̈́ͅ ̸̢̛̘͓̉̈́͝͝F̴͈̤̞͘ę̵͉̻̯̲̅ẽ̷̡̼̈̕͝d̵̲͖̦͈͍̈ ̶̱̽̑̓͝F̶̜̒̎̕ẹ̵̾̐͝e̵̬͉̘̟̎ḏ̷̗͚̙͕̠̎

_(Thudding, squishy footsteps)_

[Melanie] Behind you! _(Slash and stab of a knife)_

_(A sharp, deep scream, louder in the hallway. A second stab and the sound of meat falling wetly. Melanie huffing and the sound of continued stabbing.)_

[Martin] Melanie, stop!

_(Stabbing continues, Melanie huffing loudly)_

[Martin] Melanie!

[Basira] Look!

[Jared Hopworth] **Your bones look nice.**

_(Martin shouts, a sound like cracking, Basira screams then the slash of a knife. Gurgling and an aggressive splatting noises)_

[Jared Hopworth] **Where is your Archivist?**

[Martin, _gasping sharply_ ] You stay away from him!

[Melanie] He’s not here. You’ve got us and we don’t want you. Get out!

[Jared Hopworth] **I can take your bones first.**

_(Wet sliding then the sudden sing and stab of a knife. Jared screams)_

[Jared Hopworth] **My Hands…**

[Melanie] I’ll cut more off if you come any closer! 

[Jared Hopworth, _more aggressive_ ] **I think I’ll take all your bones.**

[Melanie, _like a growl_ ] Try it then!

[Jared Hopworth] **Alls I need to do it reach inside.**

[Melanie] And all I need to do is reach out and stab you!

[Jared Hopworth] **The bone comes out so smooth. You should see it.**

[Basira] Melanie…

[Melanie] Stay behind me!

[Jared Hopworth] **Shinning like they’re new, good smooth bones.**

[Martin] There’re more behind him. They’re coming…

[Basira] What about the tunnels? We could –

[Martin, _hissing_ ] They could be in the tunnels!

[Jared Hopworth] **I’ll take a bone each, a femur from you and clavicle off you.**

[Melanie] We won’t let you take them easy!

_(Steady sound of heavy, meaty feet)_

[Jared Hopworth] **What about your Archivist? I’ll take all of his.**

[Martin, _gasping_ ] You won’t.

[Melanie] Don’t, Martin.

[Jared Hopworth] **I think I want a whole leg from the sharp one…**

[Basira, _whispering_ ] Melanie, it’s the end of the hall… We’ve got nowhere else to go.

[Melanie, _chuckling low and dark_ ] All right then. _(A flick of metal)_ Come on.

_(Sudden sound of aggressive meat stabbing, over and over, Jared screaming, Melanie screaming, Basira shouting unintelligibly, more stabbing and a chorus of moaning screams.)_

[Martin] Melanie!

[Basira] His heart, his heart!

[Martin] MELANIE! 

[Melanie] Die!

_(Melanie shouting still in time with the sound of the knife stabbing into thick flesh, stab – stab – stab)_

[Jared Hopworth] **It’s not right! Not right!**

[Melanie] DIE! YOU MONSTER, DIE!

_(A sliding wet sound of hurried retreat and a door opening then shutting with a loud crack. A thick wet sound of flesh falling to the floor)_

_(Long pause)_

[Basira] Where did he go?

[Melanie, _heaving breath_ ] The… the door.

[Martin] They’ve stopped… The others they’re just… meat…

[Basira] What door?

[Melanie, _breathing slower but still deeply_ ] What?

[Basira] What door did he go through? He could come back, he –

[Melanie] That door!

[Martin] That’s a new door.

[Basira and Melanie] What?

[Martin] That door was not there before. That is a new door.

[Basira] Are you… maybe you’re not remembering –

[Martin] I was forced to live in the archives for months! I know every room and corridor and every single door and that… That is a new door.

_(A door creaks ominously open. The sound of high static.)_

[Helen] H e l l o.


	5. Chapter 5

_(Click on)_

_(Faint sound of hospital machines)_

[Martin] Jon… It’s been five months now since you, well, since you’ve been here. Not breathing, eyes still moving. What are you seeing in there? _(weak laugh)_ Sometimes I think maybe you’re like Elias and when your eyes move you’re seeing all of us, just watching us day after day trapped in the institute. 

_(Pause)_

[Martin, _clearing throat_ ] Probably not. Probably you’re seeing nothing at all, just… dreams. _(voice softer)_ I hope they’re good dreams, I really do, Jon. So much of our luck and our lives would lead to me think that they’re not. With everything we have all been through and what is out there in the world lurking, waiting, that would mean that they are not dreams but nightmares you are watching or living and _(gasp)_ God… just… 

_(deep inhale. Voice even softer)_ Please let them be good dreams instead.

_(Faint sound of a hand smoothing fabric)_

[Martin] Things have happened, Jon, at the institute, to us. Maybe you can already see it, maybe not. We’re not… well, it’s not good. _(false cheer to voice)_ Maybe I should give you my statement about it. _(tone falling back)_ I’m not going to. I can’t, not yet. My arm is better, Basira seems recovered, Melanie is… angry. We are all alive, for now. But it can’t happen again. 

_(Several deep breaths and the scratch of a chair on tile. The hum of hospital machines, no beeping)_

[Martin, _quietly_ ] I’ve always liked your hair best. I think the gray suits you, your buttoned up, gruff professionalism. _(chuckle then a sigh)_ When it falls in your eyes you look so lovely.

_(Pause)_

[Martin] I am going to do something you would tell me not to – too much of a risk or too much of a cost – but I have to do something and if the cost is just me then I think it will be worth it, for them… for you. It will be worth it for you. I think I know what he will want from me, at least I have an idea, and I know you would try to stop me but… _(sigh)_ But you’re not really here, Jon, so you can’t.

_(Chair moves again. Sound of a light kiss)_

[Martin] Goodbye, Jon. If they are nightmares, I hope they change to dreams.

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

_(Footsteps in an echoing corridor. The footsteps stop. A distinct tap-tap on a door.)_

_(A buzzing static sound)_

[Helen] H e l l o a g a i n.

[Melanie] Hi. I thought we should talk.

[Helen] A h. W h a t w o u l d y o u l i k e t o t a l k a b o u t?

[Melanie] First off, why? Why did you help us?

[Helen] N o w t h a t i s a n I n t e r e s t i n g q u e s t i o n. W h y d i d I h e l p? I s u p p o s e b e c a u s e I w a n t e d t o s e e w h a t w o u l d h a p p e n i f I d i d.

[Melanie, _frustrated_ ] That’s not a real answer. You must have a reason.

[Helen, _laughing_ ] W h y? 

[Melanie] Because people don’t do things without a reason!

[Helen] O h. B u t I a m n o t a p e r s o n a n y m o r e, a m I?

[Melanie] Just tell me why. Do you want something from us? Should we be afraid of you?

[Helen] I h a v e h e l p e d y o u r a r c h i v i s t b e f o r e. I s t i l l w a n t t o.

[Melanie] Him or us?

[Helen] I t i s t h e s a m e.

[Melanie] Right. _(frustrated noise)_ But that still doesn’t explain why.

[Helen] I f y o u n e e d a b e t t e r a n s w e r, t h e n I s u p p o s e b e c a u s e I d o n o t t h i n k i t i s w r o n g t o s o m e t i m e s b e k i n d, a n d t h a t s o m e f e a r s d o n o t d e s e r v e t o w i n.

[Melanie, _inhale_ ] Okay. I guess that is as good as I’m going to get. You said you wanted to help us and… well, you’re still here.

[Helen] I h a v e m a n y d o o r s.

[Melanie] Can you open them anywhere?

[Helen] I f I w a n t.

[Melanie] Could you open one to where Elias Bouchard is? Could you open one right into his cell?

[Helen, _laughing_ ] Y o u s h o u l d n o t f e e d t h e s l a u g h t e r. I t w I l l o n l y h u n g e r m o r e.

[Melanie, _angrily_ ] Do not tell me about hunger. I just want to know if you can open a door to Elias. I am not asking you to do anything to him for me. I just want to walk through.

[Helen] N o.

[Melanie, _insistent_ ] If you told me where, I could –

[Helen, _voice definitive_ ] N o. T h e s e h a l l s a r e n o t f o r y o u.

[Melanie] You said you wanted to help.

[Helen] I w i l l h e l p a s I c h o o s e.

[Melanie] Yeah? Like how?

[Helen] I c a n g o w h e r e y o u c a n n o t.

[Melanie, _huff_ ] Yeah, I can see that.

[Helen] W a i t a n d s e e. I c a n h e l p w i t h a n s w e r s. I c a n s a y t h a t t h e r e a r e m a n y w h o w o u l d s t i l l w i s h y o u h a r m. Y o u a r e s a f e s t h e r e.

[Melanie] Here? The place that wants to trap us and control us?

[Helen] T h e w a t c h e r k e e p s w h a t i t s e e s o n c e i t h a s i t.

[Melanie, _annoyed_ ] Do you always talk in riddles?

[Helen] M a y b e.

_(Melanie sighs. Silence but for a buzz as through from down a long hall)_

[Melanie] Why did you move your door down to these tunnels anyway?

[Helen] T h e t w i s t s a r e s o o t h i n g.

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Martin] Peter? _(pause)_ Peter, can we... _(clears throat)_ Can we talk?

_(Still silence then a door closes)_

[Martin] I’m alone, Peter. I just… I need your help.

_(High pitched static)_

[Peter] And what kind of help might that be?

_(Martin startles)_

[Martin] Peter! _(sigh)_ Peter. I don’t know how that still scared me when I was calling you…

[Peter] Very good question! But I don’t think that was the one you were calling me about.

[Martin] No. No, I need your help Peter.

[Peter] As you said, but with what?

[Martin] The attack, the… Flesh. I’m not accusing you and I’m not angry, but I think maybe it was something you could have stopped if you’d wanted to.

[Peter] Hmm. Well, I’m not all powerful, Martin, if that’s what you think.

[Martin] But?

[Peter] But I might have been able to do something if I’d known. To be honest, I didn’t see that one coming at the time and you did end up getting the help you needed, didn’t you?

[Martin] Did you… did you call Helen?

[Peter] No, the distortion is not under my purview, but I didn’t stop her either.

[Martin] Right… What I’m asking is if you could help, if you could protect us – the institute, the others… Jon. 

[Peter] I have to admit, I think it very unlikely Jon will ever wake up.

[Martin, _sharply_ ] I know! _(breathes in then calmer)_ I know, but could you help? Could you protect them, all of them, from the other monsters, the other powers?

[Peter] Well now, that is something I could do but I think that also entitles me to something in return.

[Martin] And that would be?

[Peter] Why, you, Martin.

[Martin, _inhale_ ] Okay.

[Peter] Ah yes, not surprised. I thought you wouldn’t be. Even better! I did say we would work well together, and it will be much easier if you are willing. In fact, you will be able to help protect all your friends by doing so!

[Martin] How?

[Peter] Being with The Lonely allows you certain powers, _(high pitched static)_ as you have seen. And you will need these powers to help me with what is coming.

[Martin] With what is coming?

[Peter] Yes.

[Martin, _sigh_ ] And what is coming? Another attack like Jared?

[Peter] No, something worse. The Extinction.

[Martin] The Extinction? What, like the dinosaurs? Is there a meteor on the way?

[Peter] Oh Martin, I’m not sure humor is your area.

[Martin] You expect me to believe that ‘The Extinction’ is coming? Even for us, the institute, that sounds rather far-fetched.

[Peter] I am in the process of looking through the archives now to find you what I am talking about. I am certain I can turn you around to what I am seeing. Just need some time. Your archives are, well, a bit of a disarray.

[Martin] Yes.

[Peter] In the meantime, if we are going to be working together properly, you need to start on your development.

[Martin] And what does that mean?

[Peter] That means you need to spend as much of your time as possible alone.

[Martin, _voice cracking_ ] I’m already alone…

[Peter, _chuckling_ ] Oh Martin, you can be so much more alone than you are now. So let’s get to work on that! I think we can start right now.

_(High pitched static sound. Martin breathes out heavily, his voice shaky)_

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Basira] Statement of James Wright, February 5th, 1973. 

I write this statement as a last epitaph of my own mind. 

The Magnus Institute is a cistern of knowledge. A collection of the experiences of those individuals touched by the thirteen is vital to the protection of humankind. The more that can be known about these powers, the better we can guard against them. The purpose of the institute may be to serve one of the thirteen but that does not mean people cannot still use its resources and knowledge to learn. The institute must be maintained, and I will do my part. I am fully aware my intentions are likely not shared by The Eye but it is the only one which may give us some substance and information with its terror.

To Matthew, I know you do not understand why I chose to leave you, but I wished to do so as myself to protect you from further harm. I would not leave you with another who you could not see. I love you and have since the night you asked me to climb that tree in the moon light. If by some horrible turn you read this, please be comforted to know I made the choice of least tragedy and at the heart of it was my desire to keep you safe for as long as I could. I have never loved a person more.

To Gertrude, be careful what you are starting. This is a fight you cannot win. Better to choose a master of a lesser evil.

I know the choices before me were few and all unfortunate. I know many would consider my choice either cowardice or betrayal, but I made it. I was not taken, I chose. I know this means the end of me as I am, but I sacrifice myself to maintain the integrity of The Magnus Institute. I offer my eyes.

I hereby accept the responsibilities, ramifications and role of head of the Magnus Institute.

[Basira, _sighing_ ] So maybe half of that makes sense… _(muttering)_ Nothing about Elias.

_(Knock on door)_

[Melanie] Hey. Are you doing a statement? You?

[Basira, _terse_ ] What is it?

[Melanie] You got an envelope. _(Envelope dropping on table)_ Martin left it.

[Basira] Right. You saw him?

[Melanie] Uh no, he left a note. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks actually. Has he gone somewhere?

[Basira] Not sure. I think he’s taking on more responsibilities with Peter Lukas.

[Melanie] Right. I’m sure that’ll end well. So, something about Daisy?

_(Rip of cardboard and flip of paper)_

[Basira] Nope. Not anymore.

[Melanie] Really?

[Basira] You’re right, she’s dead.

[Melanie] So you didn’t find anything?

[Basira] Sometimes you have to give up.

[Melanie, _sighing_ ] Look, Basira, we all lost Tim and Daisy and, uh, well, people mourn in different ways… I think.

[Basira, _harshly_ ] I’m not mourning. I’m moving on. It’s over.

[Melanie] Basira, come on.

[Basira] Enough, Melanie. I… _(sigh)_ She wouldn’t want me to waste time crying over her. Better to do what we both did best.

[Melanie] Shoot people?

_(Basira laughs then stops abruptly)_

[Basira, _deep inhale_ ] Daisy, she… she had a pet bird, a macaw, big white thing named Baron. She didn’t explain why she named it Baron but apparently a bet was involved. _(light chuckle)_ Sometimes at night it would chirp things like ‘fire, fire’ and wake me up. Lucky I never shot it. I… I sold it last week. I wish I hadn’t.

_(Silence. Shuffle of paper.)_

[Melanie] Do you… want any help with what you’re working on? What are you working on?

[Basira] I’m fine, Melanie.

_(Pause)_

[Melanie, _terse_ ] Right, fine. Do your work and don’t tell me anything, why would you? It’s not like we are the only people each other have anymore, right?

[Basira, _harshly_ ] Right.

_(Door opens and shuts again)_

_(Click off)_


	6. Chapter 6

_(Click on)_

[Melanie, _strained_ ] Statement of Cael Bashir December 10th, 1999 concerning Y2K at MIT because we are still doing these because _(derisively)_ Jon would want to have them recorded. _(Sigh)_

_(Clap)_

Have you heard of Y2K? How could you not? Been on the news constantly this year, about the changing over of the year from two digits to four. Most computer systems only allow for the two, 98, 99... but now with 2000 coming you need four because with just two 1900 would look the same as 2000; you can’t have that, so you need the four. I guess I don’t need to explain that to you, it’s not really the point. At least I hope not. Jesus, if what happened is really because of 1999 turning over into 2000 then… then I am more afraid of the New Year than the alarmists and conspiracy theorists at their worst have let on.

This all happened at MIT, in America. I’m from Surrey originally which still made some of my classmates confused; as if Americans can really talk with their ‘melting pot’ country. Point is, I wanted to go to one of the best schools for computer engineering, so MIT it was. I actually had a specific class on Y2K and some of the methods that could be used to combat previous programing short cuts. 

I was working with three of my mates in one of the late night computer labs – one that was set up for the programmers’ use only and had extra RAM on all the systems to allow for numerous coding projects and infant systems if anyone was working on a thesis. David had been joking about the alarmists out there thinking the world was going to end with big explosions or chaos in the streets. Parni egged him on saying he could build in a function that as soon as someone put in the 2000 it would force a shut down or a system review so a lay person would think it was all horribly true.

Ted and Barry came over to David’s computer then as the four of them started laughing and suggesting more outlandish pranks for the computer illiterate. As I listened, still trying to do my own work, I heard their suggestions growing more dangerous, more foul, things that could actually hurt someone’s life. You would not believe how badly your computerized data can actually affect you, if messed with. I saw David’s fingers moving fast over the keys, too fast really, like he almost didn’t realize he was doing it? Parni’s voice had changed. Usually her voice is high like a young girl but now it sounded low, almost a growl. I realized as I was watching them from the other side of the computer row that Ted actually was growling, low like a dog before it pounces. Barry just kept muttering ‘do it, do it.’ I started to say this was stupid and maybe they should stop but my voice felt stuck in my throat.

Then abruptly all four froze. The light from David’s computer was very bright on their faces, as if the screen had switched to the ‘blue screen of death.’ Then Parni calmly reached over David, pulled up the keyboard from in front of him and smashed Ted across the face with it. His head snapped back, a tooth flying. Before I could react, David stood up, whirled around to grab Barry’s head and shove him face first into a computer monitor. I screamed and jumped up, coming around the row to try and stop them. By then Ted had thrown Parni to the floor and stamped his boot into her knee with the loudest crack I have heard in my life. I felt nausea rise, I tried to shout at them as Barry flailed with his head in the broken monitor, his hand grasping blindly backward for David. Then I saw David’s computer screen. The entire screen was filled with ‘2000’ typed again and again and again and I – Oh!

[Melanie] Hey, Martin! _(door creaks open quickly, knocking against the wall)_ Martin! I said, Martin!

[Martin] Yes, Melanie?

[Melanie] What, you didn’t hear me, so I had to shout three times?

[Martin] I heard you. I’m busy.

[Melanie, _scoff_ ] Right, going to see Jon again?

[Martin] No.

[Melanie] Sure…

[Martin] What do you want?

[Melanie] About Jon. It’s been almost six months. _(pause)_ Isn’t it time?

[Martin] I can’t talk now, Melanie, I really need to –

[Melanie] He is not going to wake up. We should just be done with it.

[Martin] What are you saying?

[Melanie] Jon isn’t going to wake up, so we should put him out of his misery. I mean _(dark laugh)_ would we really want him back anyway with what he is? 

[Martin] “With what he is?”

[Melanie] I’ve been thinking about it and the more I think, the more I know that Jon is not like us, not… safe anymore.

[Martin, _warningly_ ] Melanie…

[Melanie] It is because of him that Daisy and Tim are dead. It is because of him that I am trapped here, that Basira is trapped here, even you!

[Martin] Jon did not trap me.

[Melanie] All of this _(heaving breath)_ the state we are in, getting attacked by mounds of walking… Jon is part of it. What if the reason he is… like that is because he is, I don’t know, preparing for whatever he will be when he comes back – if he comes back or… or wakes up? We have to just end it!

[Martin] That is not your decision.

[Melanie] It has to be someone’s! What if he’s not Jon anymore? We know he’s not. I mean, he starts to actually get sick if he does not read statements. Come on!

[Martin] Melanie, it’s not his –

[Melanie] He is becoming just like Elias, just another monster, one that helps to keep us here. What if him in that state at the hospital is doing that? What if it’s not Elias trapping us now? How can we know unless we end it? Hmm? What, are we supposed to sacrifice ourselves too like Tim and Daisy? Do we just wait to be murdered? No, we should have a choice. We should do something!

[Martin, _coldly_ ] ‘Doing something’ does not mean you get to murder Jon. 

_(pause)_

[Melanie, _harsh_ ] He is not going to wake up and if he does, I don’t want him back.

[Martin, _clipped_ ] I have work.

_(Retreating footsteps)_

[Melanie, _calling out_ ] Work with what? I haven’t even seen you for… _(sigh)_ And still walking away.

_(Door closes)_

[Melanie] Well, do you want the rest of the statement, Jon, hmm? Hear more of this sudden blood lust from computer geeks? Am I doing this for the institute or for you? Is there even a difference?

_(pause)_

[Melanie] What am I… why am I even reading this? _(louder, frustrated noise)_ What the hell is it helping? 

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Peter] Martin.

_(Martin gasps and something clatters on tile)_

[Martin] Peter, Lord! And my…

[Peter] I am sure it is fine.

[Martin] My computer… you don’t… _(sigh)_ You don’t have to just appear like that.

[Peter] Well, it seems now that I do. Let’s talk in private.

[Martin] _(Gasp)_ Your hands are cold…

[Peter] Or perhaps you are just too warm.

_(Door closes)_

[Peter] Now, I don’t like to do this, Martin, but as you’ve agreed to us working together, I must be a bit more firm about how you spend your time.

[Martin] Peter, I am doing the best –

[Peter] Talking to people, especially your friends, is an activity best avoided. I know you know this already.

[Martin] I do.

[Peter] Then you really must be making a better effort to do so.

[Martin] If you are talking about Melanie it was an accident; she ran me down.

[Peter] Yes, she did, Martin, but you have to be better about ending any conversation.

[Martin] It wasn’t even five minutes.

[Peter, _chuckle_ ] It is not merely about time, it’s about how you feel. Any surge of friendship or togetherness has to be avoided. Alone is alone, not just sometimes.

[Martin, _tersely_ ] If I work at the institute, how can I possibly not see any other person ever? You’re not even alone all the time!

[Peter] Much to my dismay. Even talking to you takes such an effort.

[Martin] I didn’t ask you to.

[Peter] Oh Martin, perhaps you are coming along better than I thought already. But still, better to avoid your coworkers more actively.

[Martin] Fine.

[Peter] And I must emphasize, visiting Jon is included. I know you might think his being in the state he is makes it very much as if you are still alone but that’s just not the case. Isolation is a far different state.

[Martin] I haven’t been back to see him.

[Peter] And that’s good, very good, let’s keep it that way.

_(Martin signs)_

[Peter] In order to combat what is coming, Martin, you will need certain powers. These powers don’t appear overnight and without some work. I wasn’t born this way, Martin, and I had many years to become as I am. We don’t have that sort of time for you.

[Martin] Why? What is happening so soon? If you have so many powers, why can’t you help instead of just…

[Peter] Spooking you? _(chuckle)_ It has to be you, Martin. I am equipped for certain things but not what you will have to do.

[Martin] And what is that?

[Peter] All in good time. The one who wields the seat needs a dual alignment which we must make in you.

[Martin] Right. _(Pause)_ You know you’re not making sense? How am I supposed to prepare if I don’t know what I am preparing for?

[Peter, _patronizingly_ ] Martin, you know how.

[Martin] I’m trying, but I work here with other people. What am I supposed to do, just ignore them? Run away?

[Peter] You could disappear.

[Martin] I… what?

[Basira] Martin? _(Knock on door)_ Martin? _(Door opens)_ Martin.

[Martin, _nervously_ ] Basira…

[Basira] Who were you talking to?

[Martin] It was… _(pause)_ Oh… right.

[Basira] Was it Peter?

[Martin] I… uh….

[Basira] What is going on with you and him, Martin? We barely see you and now you’re his assistant? We don’t know what he’s really doing here. We can’t trust him.

[Martin] I’m not asking you to trust him.

[Basira] I’m not going to.

[Martin] But trust me, Okay, Basira? Trust me.

[Basira, _sighing_ ] Martin…

[Martin] I have to go, Basira.

[Basira] What? But – wait, Mart… I… Martin? Huh.

_(Click off)_

_(Click on)_

[Basira] Right, I know this is probably a long shot. I’m more likely just talking to myself or worse, Elias, but on the chance this might do something, well, I have to take it. 

[Basira] Jon, if you can hear this in your coma then maybe this can help snap you out of it. I know Martin tried reading you statements, but this isn’t a statement, this sounds like more. So, if you can hear through these tape recorders now, somehow, listen to this because… _(sigh)_ Because I need help, Jon. It’s just me now; Melanie and Martin are both… I’m starting to worry I am losing them. So, you had better damn get back here and help me figure out what is going on, figure out how to stop whatever this all is! 

[Basira, _clearing throat_ ] Right. Letter from Sophia Bouchard to Jonah Magnus, March 3rd, 1817.

Jonah,

I know you have felt much conflict within you in regards to the fourteen. You have been in thrall of them and their power since Robert first brought us all together to learn of their existence and their terrible domains within our world. I do hope the books I have sent have given you even more insight into these realms and their rewards. 

It is upon this idea, this knowing, that I compose this letter. You are a man motivated by knowledge, by a desire to understand and see all of this dark and twisted world in which we do our penance supposedly toward a single God. You wish to know what lingers - in the dark, in the fire, in the open sea, in the falling, in the strange - in all of it. You have said as much to me about your fascination with all such terror and misery. I say, if your true God is that of knowledge then why not turn to the one of the fourteen which you are already aware you are most akin to? Why not learn about them all through the service of one?

The Eye does not only see man and his perils, the Eye sees its fellow powers. The Eye feeds upon them because it may watch all they do, all the fear they instill, and be nourished. The Darkness cannot be fed by the Flame which instead attempts to extinguish it; the Stranger gains no power from the Lonely in their contrast; the Buried cannot contain the Vast. The Eye, however, the Eye may see each and every one of these powers, it can know and behold any fear, any facet, any danger because the Eye need only see and watch. What do these other twelve do which the Eye cannot behold? It is this, this existence of these powers within our world that puts the Eye above them all. If our fears must be made manifest in some form upon the earth, then the Eye may watch.

Join us, Jonah. If you need convincing more, come to Edinburg. I can show you the power and knowledge of the Eye, even over that of man’s greatest fears, especially for those of us who know there is no ‘maker,’ as the masses believe, to meet at this end. Come, Jonah, come and see.

Yours sincerely,  
Sophia Bouchard

[Basira, _sighing_ ] So? _(pause)_ Anything? Anything at all? _(frustrated noise)_ Please, Jon, I’m asking, like an idiot, for help.

_(Door opens)_

[Melanie, _gasping_ ] Basira?

[Basira] Melanie! What is… what’s wrong?

[Melanie] I tried, damn it, Basira but she…

[Basira] You tried what?

_(Door opens with a high-pitched buzz)_

[Helen] S h e t r i e d a d o o r t h a t w a s n o t h e r d o o r.

[Basira] The hell…

[Melanie] I feel sick…

[Helen] I t o l d y o u t h e s e h a l l s a r e n o t f o r y o u.

[Basira] What the hell, Melanie, did you go inside?

[Melanie] I felt… god _(moaning)_

[Basira] What did you do to her?

[Helen] S h e t r i e d a w r o n g p a t h

[Basira] You took her in there? We listened to you! We thought we could trust you!

[Helen] T r u s t? A s t r a n g e w o r d a n d n o t o n e f o r m e a n y l o n g e r I t h I n k.

[Basira] Melanie, come on. Come on, stand up. What did she do to you? How long were you in there?

[Melanie] I wasn’t…

[Basira] I… what?

[Melanie] She wouldn’t let me in! I tried to push past her, I grabbed her hand and I touched the edge of the door frame. God… I might, I might vomit.

[Basira] What did you do to her?

[Helen] I s a v e d h e r. S h e i s n o t m a r k e d f o r m e.

[Basira] Marked?

[Melanie] I still feel like… god, it felt like everything inside me just twisted… wouldn’t straighten out again.

[Helen] Y o u w i l l. Y o u a r e n o t f o r m e.

_(Door closes)_

[Basira] God, Melanie, what the hell were you thinking? Just because she helped us once or twice doesn’t mean you can just try and, what, force her into – I mean, we don’t even know what she is. What were you thinking?

[Melanie] I was thinking those doors could lead somewhere else! I was thinking maybe if we can’t leave the institute normally then maybe we need something supernatural, something like an endless corridor and a different sort of door. I thought once I was inside, she would have to let me out eventually, or I could say I wouldn’t leave unless she gave me a third option, other than the institute or death. Or... or maybe even her corridors would be better than here.

[Basira] Fuck, Melanie.

[Melanie] Save it! It didn’t work, did it?

[Basira] Listen, Melanie, I know we have to do something. I’m trying, okay?

[Melanie] Trying? Right. Trying what? What is there for us to do? Half of us are dead, Martin is hardly here, and you are so damn secretive.

[Basira] Melanie, you have to trust me.

[Melanie] Trust you? I feel like I don’t even know you! I feel like this place is just sapping everything I know out of me and leaving only… just leaving… I’m just angry, Basira, I’m just angry and I can’t stand it here! I can’t stand it!

[Basira] Melanie, please –

[Melanie] Enough! Fuck you too, Basira. Just… _(groan)_

_(Chair scraping. Door opens and slams shut again)_

[Basira] Damn it…

_(Mobile buzzing on wood. Beep of connection.)_

[Basira] Hello? Yes. _(pause)_ Oh yeah, right, I guess I am. _(pause)_ Wait, really? Awake? You’re sure he is? Not just his eyes moving? _(pause)_ I will be right there.

_(Click off)_


End file.
